


cherry

by kenscarquin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, POV Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenscarquin/pseuds/kenscarquin
Summary: And Wanda had said yes. And Vision had smiled. And everyone had cheered, apart from Natasha, whose breath hitched as a stab of pain went through her chest. She’d been stabbed plenty of times, she’d been shot, tortured and maimed, but she’d take all that and more over this.or Natasha pushes Wanda away instead of admitting her feelings.(this is very loosely based on the harry styles song 'cherry' b/c i was listening to it today and couldn't get this out of my head.)
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	cherry

She couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. 

It wasn’t a familiar type of pain either. Not the type she’d grown up enduring, the kind that ebbed and flowed with the days and nights. The kind that she could grit her teeth and bare against until it faded into a tolerable ache that could be swallowed and ignored. 

No, it was crippling in the way that heartache was. But the uncharted territory of it all settled like a rock in her stomach and traveled all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, twinging with every movement of her body and every thought that traveled across the blank expanse of her mind. 

It was weakness. A weakness that never should have been revealed in the first place. But she had let herself fall, and she was the only one to blame for it anyways. And it all circled back, the familiar self-loathing at the very core of her being, finding its way into every aspect of her adult life. 

It hurt the most when she saw them together. Every morning, every team dinner, every post-mission meeting. So goddamn _cozy _like they’d been through it all together.__

____

____

It started slowly, like most things of this nature often do. With lingering touches and fleeting gazes, the building blocks of a friendship and the tentative trust of an acquaintance. However, in this line of work, the road from stranger to friend (or at least teammate) needed to be short, and so it wasn’t long until she considered Wanda a friend. A genuine friend at that, not unlike Clint or Steve, and she ignored the budding feeling of affection in her chest. Didn’t have any time or interest in addressing it. Not when it was so painfully obvious that it wasn’t reciprocated. 

Wanda was complicated, which was to be expected. She couldn’t have found herself in the position she was in without a healthy dose of life altering trauma. And so here she was, a damaged but powerful young woman, filled with fear, and distrust and _pain _.__

__It almost hurt, how much of herself she saw in the younger woman. She found herself wondering if that was what initially drew her to Wanda, in the early hours of the morning, sheets twisted around her body and chest tight from holding back tears, she played over the first moments of their relationship and cursed herself for letting it get to where it was now._ _

__It was months after they met the first time it happened. She hadn’t really been asleep, only in that sweet spot after your mind went blank but before sleep pulled you under, when she heard the screaming. It ripped her from the half-conscious head space she had been in, setting her nerves on fire and pulling her upright in her bed. From the room above her, a woman’s voice, it was muffled but unsettling nonetheless. An instinct to comfort Wanda came so strong she didn’t bother to question her actions until she was already inside the younger woman’s bedroom and approaching the soft mattress where she was tangled in her sheets, chest heaving and hands clenched into fists at her sides._ _

__With the decision made it wasn’t difficult to notch herself behind Wanda, snake her arm around her waist and press the full front of her body into the younger woman’s back. Wanda was silent for the rest of the night, and wasn’t aware of Natasha’s presence until the next morning, where the older woman’s scent clung to her sheets and her pillowcase, and a nightmare about childhood terrors clung like spiderwebs to her waking mind._ _

__It was an understanding then, but they never talked about it._ _

__She could feel Wanda watching her after that. She could feel the younger woman’s hazel gaze on her constantly, could feel the unfamiliar magic surrounding her, threatening to intrude but never fully crossing the barrier of Natasha’s mind. Never breaking the weak balance of trust they seemed to share unless she let it._ _

__She could feel Wanda watching her when she sparred with Steve, when she poured coffee for Clint and Sam, when they gathered around the table for Tony to give them a post-mission recap._ _

__And she could feel her listening too._ _

__It was so soft it was almost imperceptible, but she could feel the red energy falling onto Natasha like a blanket from the floor above, shrouding her in tender curiosity, like it was waiting for permission. Sometimes she leaned into it. Letting the crimson force into her head, letting it dance across the memories. Of dusty floors and pointed toes in too-tight ballet slippers. Of the pinch of handcuffs and the coolness of metal on fingertips. Of blood and bruises and the crack of bones. She could feel Wanda reading her, collecting the moments like a child picking up pretty rocks at the beach. Rinsing them off and storing them in a jar on their bedside table._ _

__They never talked about it._ _

__It was after a mission when it finally happened. It was one of the first Wanda had participated in, finally being given allowance from Steve, and she had slipped. Had lost focus for a half second when she was supposed to be covering Clint’s flank, had let her gaze catch an agent in a tree over Natasha who was seconds away from jumping on the redhead. It didn’t matter that she had ripped the man apart from fifty yards away, Natasha looked over at the younger woman, irises flaring and hands raised with lingering tendrils of her magic caught between them. She didn’t need anyone protecting her._ _

__It’s exactly what she planned to say when she approached Wanda’s door that night, but Wanda had greeted her with caution, like she was expecting to be scolded by the redhead, gaze lowered and expectant. And it almost seemed like a last ditch effort when she launched herself into Natasha’s arms and pressed their lips together with fervor, but Natasha didn’t notice. Too preoccupied with the euphoria blooming in her chest, filling her body like a warm drink on a cold day, so blissfully perfect she couldn’t do anything but bask in the feeling. It was joy, it was happiness, it was home. And it scared her more than it should’ve. It scared her how easy it was to undress Wanda, slow, slower than she’d ever undressed anybody before. Taking the time to trace out the curve of her hips, where her back dipped and the hard lines of her toned abdomen. It scared her how good it felt to have her hands on Wanda’s thighs, the younger woman’s hands in her hair as arousal filled her mouth and ran over her tongue like nectar. How easy it was to watch Wanda come apart under her sure hands._ _

__It scared her how tight her chest became as she slipped out of Wanda’s room before the sun came up._ _

__And they never talked about it._ _

__Vision was never on Natasha’s radar, which in her pain fuelled retrospection, was an oversight that would haunt her until her last breath._ _

__She thought they were friends, hadn’t really bothered to pay attention when they had breakfast together almost every morning while her and Steve discussed mission plans. Didn’t even notice their almost nightly walks, travelling around the outskirts of the compound’s property at the same time that she worked out with Clint._ _

__So there was absolutely no warning when Vision asked Wanda out right at the dinner table, right in front of Natasha, who still had the taste of Wanda on her tongue._ _

__And Wanda had said yes. And Vision had smiled. And everyone had cheered, apart from Natasha, whose breath hitched as a stab of pain went through her chest. She’d been stabbed plenty of times, she’d been shot, tortured and maimed, but she’d take all that and more over this._ _

__These sleepless nights. This unrelenting ache for something she never had, for something she’d never have._ _

__Wanda had tried to talk to her that night. Coming into the older woman’s room, sitting on the edge of the bed like they hadn’t just fucked on it hours before. Natasha couldn’t even bear to look at her, fearing she’d give everything away, knowing the younger woman could read her better than anyone else could. Knew her better than anyone else had. That’s where it hurt the most, on those quiet, secret nights, the broken parts she had shared (given) Wanda, letting the witch mend them with her gaze, with her understanding, now here they were shattered all over again._ _

__Natasha had turned, meeting Wanda’s gaze with as much strength as she had. Wanda’s gaze was questioning, Natasha could only close her eyes and nod, letting Wanda’s magic wash over her, letting her read the lies that she forced forward. Letting Wanda read the dishonesty she was shouting at her in her mind, that she didn’t care, that she was okay with this because it hadn’t been anything but sex to her._ _

__She didn’t really know if it would work. Didn’t really know the full extent of the woman’s powers until she opened her eyes and she was alone._ _

__So, she blamed herself. Because that’s all she had, the only consolation for what she’d done. Sacrificing her own happiness to save Wanda, save her from Natasha, because she wasn’t built for love. For feeling. For craving someone’s presence, for needing Wanda like an addict needed a fix._ _

__It was comforting to know that she had done it to herself. That Wanda couldn’t be hurt by her anymore, that she could try to move on and forget how her name sounded falling out of Wanda’s mouth in a broken cry._ _

__They passed each other every day. Sat next to each other on the Quinjet, fought side by side on missions, went to visit Clint’s family together._ _

__But they never talked about it. And she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt._ _

**Author's Note:**

> i barely edited this so hopefully it's alright. if you want more harry styles inspired stuff lemme know lol, i wouldn't call myself a harry stan per se but his music does slap.


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